


Immortals

by ThatNerdyCat15



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Trans Character, Homophobia, M/M, Tevinter, Tevinter Imperium, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:37:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4102906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatNerdyCat15/pseuds/ThatNerdyCat15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They say we are what we are, but we don’t have to be.”</p><p>Dorian Pavus has lived all his life in luxury and has never wanted any material thing that he couldn’t get by asking. The only thing he never had was what he wanted most: control of his own future. Cremisius Aclassi, on the other hand, has lived in the slums of Minrathous his whole life, and he’s taken his future into his own hands. When the Soporati chances upon the Altus cornered in an alley and decides to help, it changes their lives - for better or for worse is to be determined. </p><p>“I try to picture me without you but I can’t.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1- The Beginning of a Friendship

Dorian wasn’t sure whether it was his father’s icy words or his actions that ran him off, but either way, Dorian almost wished he’d ran off to his room instead of the streets. It was dangerously dark in Minrathous, and by this point the Altus had no clue where he was. He decided maybe it was best to ask.

“Um, excuse me, but I’m a bit lost,” he said when he happened upon a group of men. The biggest one turned to him and scowled.

“Obviously,” another said, one that had a black bandana on his head. The rest of the group, making it a total of four, all looked at him with devilish gleams in their eyes.

“What’s a noble doing on this side of town?” asked a dwarf. That was surprising; Dorian didn’t see many dwarves in the city.

“Like I said, I’m lost,” he replied, his tone low and annoyed.

“Now, now, lets be reasonable, men. We’ll tell the mage where he’s at- for a price,” the big one spoke, presumably the leader of the group - smirking at Dorian.

“Sadly, I’m broke. Oh well,” Dorian told them, turning to walk away. He felt a large hand grip his shoulder.

“Haven’t those high and mighty teachers of yours taught you lying isn’t nice?” he heard the big man say. Dorian swallowed nervously, and then, channeling his energy, he set the man’s hand ablaze.

“Gah! Get ‘em, boys!” he yelped, waving his hand wildly around in a desperate attempt to try and put the flames out. Dorian started sprinting, hoping he could outrun the gang and get to safety. He took a turn and ended up in an alley, but it was too late when he realized it was a dead end. Dorian was backed into a corner, and the men were slowly approaching. They all had smiles that could scare a viper, and Dorian shivered.

“So this is to be my end?” he muttered to himself. Suddenly, he heard a noise. He peered past the gang to see one lone man wearing a leather jacket. Dorian pleaded with the man for aid through eye contact alone, and for some reason, the man didn’t walk away. The man just shook his head and rolled up his sleeves, approaching the gang.

“Are you boys giving this Altus a problem?” he called out. They turned their attention to him, and Dorian readied his magic for the inevitable fight.

“It ain’t none of your business, stranger,” the dwarf warned. The mysterious man smirked.

“Well actually, gentlemen, I’m making it my business. I suggest you go back to drinking and let me get this Altus back where he belongs,” he replied. The leader growled, stepping up to him.

“I could take you one handed, shorty. You’d best be movin’ along,” he snarled. The man shrugged, before unexpectedly punching him in the jaw hard enough to knock him down. For a shocked moment, the other men stood frozen. Then they sprung into action, brandishing daggers seemingly out of thin air.

“You’ll pay for that!” one of them spat, and the man kicked him in the gut.

“Come on, mage, I know you can use that magic of yours!” he yelled, and Dorian snapped out of his stunned trance. He illuminated the alley with sparks, zapping the men with powerful electricity. While they were stunned, he took the opportunity and broke through them to the street. The mystery man grabbed his sleeve and pulled him as they fled the scene. They ran for a couple blocks tirelessly until they reached an apartment building. They could hear the booming footsteps of the gang chasing them, but they wouldn’t catch up before they reached safety.

“Come on, we can hide in my place!” he told Dorian, leading him up the stairs. Just as the gang spotted them the door was slammed shut, and they were safe. The man leaned against his door for a moment, catching his breath. Dorian sat against a wall, coughing. He hadn’t run that much in his entire life. After a few moments the man stepped away from the door and stopped in front of Dorian with his hands on his hips and an amused look.

“Since I just saved your arse, I’d really like to know why the hell you were out in this side of town in the first place,” the man inquired, leaning on the wall beside Dorian, who sighed.

“As far as where I was, I have no clue. The _why_ , though, is a long story,” Dorian replied, trailing his fingers through his hair. Suddenly a bang sounded. The gang was pounding on the door. Luckily, the man in the leather jacket had thought to lock both locks and the doorknob. They weren’t getting in.

“Well, my name is Cremisius Aclassi, and judging by the noise, you’ve got plenty of time to tell your tale.”

“I’m Dorian Pavus, pleased to make your acquaintance” Dorian introduced, standing up and shaking Cremisius’ hand. They walked over to the old brown couch in the middle of the room and sat on opposite ends. A few moments passed before the two said anything.

“All right. The reason I was out in the wrong side of town in the middle of the night is because of my father. He doesn’t exactly… _approve_ of my interests,” Dorian started. Cremisius scoffed.

“Blood magic, I’m guessing?” he asked, his tone sarcastic, almost patronizing. It sounded like he’d heard that before, or maybe that he just didn’t like the practice. Either way, Dorian sighed dramatically, because he was far off.

“Actually, something much more tame,” Dorian corrected. Now Cremisius looked intrigued, eyebrows raised in surprise and eyes full of interest.

“Oh?” he spoke. Dorian nodded, smirking.

“My father disapproves of my... _attraction_ to men, and my disdain at the thought of marrying women.” Dorian chuckled. “He condones blood magic, though.”

“Oh. It sounds like he needs to check his priorities,” Cremisius commented. Dorian went on.

“He always says that I have to marry a woman of good breeding and continue the Pavus bloodline and become a magister, but I disagree. He tells me it's what I was born to do, and what I’ll always be,” he continued, looking away with a frown on his face. He sighed again. A few moments of relative silence passed; of course, there was still the angry chatting of the gangsters outside Cremisius’ door.

“They say we are what we are, but we don’t have to be,” he quietly said to Dorian. Their eyes met. “I would know, considering my own past,” Cremisius added. He didn’t elaborate, and Dorian didn’t ask out of respect for his privacy.

“You know, I’ve only known you for an hour, but you’re already better than everyone I know in the friend department. Though, I don’t really have any friends. I’m bad behavior, honestly, but I do it in the best way. Even noble degenerates have to keep up appearances,” Dorian spoke after a while, his trademark smirk finding its way to his face again. Cremisius smiled at him.

“Friends, are we?” he asked.

“We could be,” Dorian replied.

“Altus, are you sure you want to be friends with a _Soporati_? I’m far below your station.”

“I’ve never been more sure in my life.”

 


	2. Chapter 2- Rebellious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spite was a powerful tool.

Two days later, having been successfully returned to his home and getting firmly reprimanded for running off by his mother, Dorian was again feeling like a cornered rat. His father had apologized for what had happened, saying he didn’t mean to hurt his beloved son - as if. At the time, Dorian just sighed and accepted the apology, seeing no other option, but on the inside he knew the kind words were lies, a ploy to keep Dorian situated at home.

He had been in his room for the most part since he returned, reading and lying about lazily in a haze of boredom. The mage was restless, having tasted freedom for only a few hours. He missed the rebellious smirk of Cremisius, and the oddly comfortable feeling of his worn leather couch. The man’s apartment was nothing compared to the Pavus mansion, but for some reason the Altus couldn’t help thinking about it. The apartment seemed so… _homely_. His grand bedroom felt suffocating, even when he was sitting by the open window that let in a soft breeze. Now, at half past eleven, he wished he was outside in the night.

Suddenly, he remembered that Cremisius had given him his phone number, and he all but leaped from his chair to find his coat, knowing there was a certain slip of paper in one of the pockets. He found it and dialed the number on his cellphone, his fingers dancing across the screen in excitement. It rang twice before the Soporati picked up.

“Surprised to hear from you, Altus,” Cremisius said in greeting. Dorian thought his tone was a little sleepy and hoped he hadn’t interrupted his sleep.

“Told you I wanted to be friends,” Dorian replied. Immediately, the room felt less stuffy, and a grin graced his face. Oh, the effect having someone to talk to had on him.

“True. Anyway, what’s on your mind?” he asked. Dorian made a split second decision.

“I’m sneaking out. But we both know on my own I’ll be lost in less than ten minutes with all the gangs in Minrathous on my tail,” he replied. He heard Cremisius chuckle.

“I’ll come get you, Altus. Wouldn’t want you getting cornered in another alley, now would we?” Cremisius joked. It was Dorian’s turn to chuckle.

“Twenty minutes, all right?” Cremisius told him, hanging up on the mage before he could get out a proper farewell. Dorian stuffed his phone in his pocket and picked his coat up off of the floor, throwing it on messily. He checked in the mirror quickly that  his hair and his mustache looked decent before going back to his window. He’d had one of his family’s slaves put a ladder under it long ago in case of endeavors like these. He climbed down carefully and snuck to the servant’s gate. There, two elves attentively stood guard. They stepped in front of it when he approached.

“Magister Pavus said not to let you pass, sir,” one said. Dorian pulled two sovereigns out of his pocket, holding one out to both of them.

“Go buy something for your wives and be back before dawn. If father asks, I told you I thought I heard rats in the kitchens,” he ordered, smiling charismatically. The two slaves didn’t argue, thanking him and unlocking the gate. They gave him one of their keys as well. Last time, he had had to climb over the gate and got caught. Of course, they hadn’t said a word to his father upon his request - and the incentive of a few more sovereigns.

He stepped out of the gate and texted Cremisius to pick him up in front of a nice pastry shop a block away. When he reached the closed shop, he leaned against the streetlight in front of it, waiting while also checking his surroundings for any other patrolling gangs.

He heard Cremisius’s roaring motorcycle before he saw it. The man pulled up to the curb expertly and grinned at Dorian in exhilaration, holding out an extra helmet.

“But, Cremisius, my hair will get messed up!” Dorian complained jokingly, taking it and putting it on. Cremisius laughed.

“And the wind won’t make it even worse? Come on, pretty boy,” he countered. Dorian sighed dramatically and hopped on the motorcycle behind him. The first time, two nights ago, he’d been a little skeptical, but now he didn’t mind. He’d done things that were far less safe than riding a motorcycle in his lifetime.

Besides, he liked the cold sting of the winter wind as the blurry buildings passed him by, and he didn’t mind holding on to Cremisius. Obviously, the man didn’t mind either. And being out of the mansion at night, with a Soporati no less, was definitely rebellious, and Dorian enjoyed it. Spite was a powerful tool.

Once they’d reached Cremisius’ apartment, Dorian was shivering. Sure, he liked the cold, but that didn’t mean he was immune to it. He silently summoned magic to warm himself up as he ascended the stairs to the apartment behind Cremisius. Cremisius unlocked the door and stepped inside, and Dorian closed it behind himself. He pulled off his coat, the white fabric suddenly too heavy and overbearing. Perhaps he’d used a little too much heat magic there.

“So, how’s life been the past couple days, Altus? There must be a reason you’d rather be in my home than yours,” Cremisius asked, taking his side of the couch. Dorian joined him, sitting on the other side and failing to stifle a sigh of relief. The feel of the leather upholstery reminded him just how much he hated the ugly gold velvet on every seat in his home.

“Oh, Cremisius, it’s been great. There’s nothing like being yelled at by your mother and lied to by your father. The mansion has been absolutely _suffocating_ since the argument. Can you really blame me for wanting to be here?” Dorian explained with his usual dramatic flair that turned up the corners of Cremisius’s mouth. He didn’t frown though, smirking instead. He couldn’t truly be unhappy when he was away from all of his problems at the moment.

“Okay, if we’re going to be friends, you’ve got to stop using my full name. Call me Krem,” Krem groaned, glaring half-heartedly at the mage. Dorian shrugged.

“All right, then,” Dorian replied. They sat for a few moments before Krem got up and disappeared into the kitchen. He came back with two bottles in his hand, and gave one to Dorian. Beers.

“I hate to admit it, but I’ve only ever had a taste of wine,” he admitted to Krem. The man chuckled.

“Well then, you might not like the taste at first, but alcohol is alcohol,” he replied, popping the cap off of his beer and taking a long sip. Dorian shrugged, agreeing with Krem’s statement, and took a considerably shorter sip of his. He scowled at the taste, but brought the bottle up to his lips again. Suddenly, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see a small kitten timidly standing beside the couch.

“Meow?” the little noise was enough to make Dorian smile widely. He looked to Krem.

“You have a cat? Can I pet it?” Dorian asked eagerly. Krem looked surprised at Dorian’s outburst, but nodded, smiling as well. Seeing a grown man suddenly melt over a cat was definitely grin-worthy in Krem’s opinion. Dorian scooped up the little white kitten, gasping quietly in appreciation of the kitten’s orange ears and orange striped tail. He’d never seen a coat like that on a cat before. He stroked the kitten in his lap, laughing as it batted a paw at his hand.

“Maker, you look like you’re fawning over a baby dragon, not a kitten!” Krem laughed. Dorian glared jokingly, returning his attention to the adorable little animal.

For the next few hours, they talked, drank, and played with the little kitten, who Dorian soon discovered was named Princess. He, of course, poked fun at Krem for naming the cat such a girly name. And, not once did he think about his father’s disapproval or his likely bleak future. He was just happy to be with someone who didn’t care who he was - oh, and also the cat.

He felt more at home in Krem’s apartment than he ever had in his Father’s mansion, and that almost scared him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**********

Chapter 3

**********

“Dorian, you’ve got to stop disappearing like this! You had me so worried!” Dorian’s mother yelled, almost crying. She put a hand over her mouth, looking at him with a disappointed expression.

“I’m a grown man, Mother, I can leave the mansion if I want to,” Dorian replied, his tone bored yet laced with disapproval. The fact that she was treating him like a child wiped away any sympathy he may have had for her. It wasn’t like he was a teenager anymore.

“You never used to sneak out like this! You were such a good boy!” she spoke. The old Dorian would’ve felt those words like daggers. The old Dorian would’ve apologized, hugged his mother, and told her he’d be good. However, Dorian wasn’t the naive young boy he had been a year ago, or even a month ago. All he wanted now was for his mother to leave his room and leave him alone.

“Will you please stop babying me? I’m twenty-three, not seventeen.” Dorian almost growled the words. His mother looked shocked.

“Yes, I know, but you’re being so irresponsible. I raised you better!” she countered. That crossed the line. Dorian stood, glaring at her.

“You hardly raised me! I was such a good boy, a good scholar, that you didn’t need to look after me! I hardly saw you for more than one meal a day for sixteen years! Don’t try to make up for it now!” he snarled, turning his back to her. She gasped behind him, and stomped out of his room in her heels, slamming his bedroom door behind her. She had been sobbing. Dorian almost felt bad for her.

He sighed angrily, pulling off his shirt and throwing it on the floor. He took off his jeans as well, and made his way over to his bed. Dorian pulled his blankets up to his chin and lay there silently, trying to control his emotions. His father treated him like a degenerate, and his mother treated him like a child. Dorian was sick of it, sick of them, sick of everything.

Everything accept Krem, that is.

Groaning, he reached over and pulled his phone off of his nightstand where he’d dropped it when he’d gotten home. He’d not been there ten minutes before his mother had come barging in like a storm. Dorian had stayed at Krem’s for a whole day, and had come back just before the sun had set. He considered himself lucky that his father wasn’t home.

He was tempted to call Krem and ask him to come back, to take him away from his problems again, but he couldn’t. Surely, his friend had things to do, he didn’t need Dorian around every day.

“Why do I miss him so much? I just left,” Dorian asked himself, tucking his phone under his pillow and rolling back over. The window was still open, and the fireplace was dark. He lit it from his bed, hardly having to think about such mundane magic. Even if it was still going to be cold because of the open window, he wasn’t willing to close it. The cold never bothered him, anyway.

**********

It was three days later that his phone rang. It wasn’t late, just a bit past nine, but it was unexpected. Dorian closed his book and picked up the phone, tapping the icon for speakerphone.

“Yes, Krem?” Dorian spoke.

“What are you doing tonight?” Krem asked. Dorian’s eyebrows went up.

“Oh, a little reading, some laying about, I might even stare wistfully out of my window into the night. Why?” Dorian replied, smirking, his tone dramatically sarcastic, as usual.

“Because I want you to go to a party with me,” Krem told the mage, chuckling.

“When do I need to be in front of the pastry shop?” Dorian inquired with a smile. Anything to get out, especially if it meant possible drinks.

“An hour. I know you’ll want time to make sure your hair is perfect or something like that, pretty boy,” Krem answered, and Dorian bit his lip at the nickname.

“As if you don’t take forever to do your own hair,” Dorian fired back, laughing. Krem sighed in response, hanging up.

The man was right though, Dorian did take half an hour to do his hair and a little longer to put on eyeliner. He was thankful that so far Krem had never judged him for wearing a little makeup. He couldn’t help that it really brought out his eyes!

“Thirty minutes. I’d better get going,” Dorian said to himself, putting his phone back in his pocket and grabbing a different jacket out of his closet. It was more stylish than the thick white coat he normally wore, and it was lighter. He decided that if he got cold he could just use magic again before climbing out of his window again. After a talk with some of the family’s slaves (and a few sovereigns), he was gone. Dorian could’ve just walked out of the front door, but what fun was that?

The elves at the servant’s gate nodded in greeting and opened the gate for him. As long as he kept paying them, what was the harm in letting him do what he wanted? He was a grown man.

He checked his phone and noticed he was running a little late, so he jogged the rest of the way to their meeting place. Krem was already there, though he’d just pulled up to the curb. He smirked when Dorian crossed the street and got on the motorcycle behind him.

“Took you long enough, pretty boy,” Krem said jokingly. Dorian rolled his eyes.

“You’re early. It’s only been fifty-eight minutes,” he replied. Off they went, and almost immediately Dorian felt the icy bite of the low temperature and had to use magic to keep himself relatively warm. It was colder than it had been the past few nights. He felt Krem shiver a little where he was holding on to him. He let some of the heat magic radiate from his fingers to Krem.

“Thanks!” Krem called, mostly muffled by the wind. Dorian smiled. _No problem._

 


	4. 4- The Party

When the two arrived at the party, it was just getting started. Krem explained beforehand that it was his boss’s party, and that his boss was a qunari. He also explained his type of work.   
“I’m a bartender, actually. The Iron Bull owns this bar, and the Chargers are what we call everyone who works here. We’ve had the same group for years, so it’s basically just our nickname,” Krem told Dorian as they walked into the bar, Chargers’ Tavern. It was in a small part of town - not necessarily the slums, but on the border of it. It was only about a ten minute walk from Krem’s home, though. the wood-panelled walls were stained in some places and had posters of bands on them. Almost immediately, Dorian spotted who he assumed was the Iron Bull.  
“Hey, Chief!” Krem called to him. Dorian was correct. Not surprising.  
“Krem-cheese! How’s it going? You’re late for the party,” the one-eyed qunari spoke, hugging Krem affectionately and ruffling his hair. Krem elbowed him lightly.  
“Hey! I spent like twenty minutes on my hair tonight!” he yelled, laughing. Dorian smiled. He wasn’t used to seeing Krem like this. He looked more like a puppy than his usual guard-dog self here.   
“Hope you don’t mind that I brought a friend, Chief,” Krem said, when he stepped over to Dorian’s side. the man looked skeptically at Dorian for a moment. then a look of recognition filled his features.  
“Oh! You’re the Altus Krem’s been talking about! Dorian, right?” the Iron Bull asked. Dorian nodded, and they shook hands.  
“I’m the Iron Bull, but you can call me Bull if you want,” he introduced. Dorian nodded again. Then Bull went off to talk to someone else, leaving Krem to go introduce Dorian to everyone.   
********  
Three hours and eight drinks apiece later, Dorian sat with the Chargers and listened as they told some of their greatest bar stories. By now he’d learned the names of everyone, and he had considerably more friends than he had at the start of the night. He sat by Krem, an arm slung over his shoulder.  
“The other day this guy kept hitting on me and I kicked his ass at a game of Wicked Grace, and then he got mad that he lost not only to a woman but an elf. So I literally kicked his ass and threw him out.” Dalish laughed, leaning on Skinner. Both elves were extremely tipsy, giggling about the story. Grim shook his head at the two, smiling. Dorian laughed along with the girls, as did Krem.  
“You go, Dalish!” Krem spoke. He raised his drink to her.   
“Hey! I’ve got an idea!” Skinner said. Krem rolled his eyes.  
“Not another one,” he joked, receiving a glare.  
“We should all play a game of Wicked Grace!” the elf suggested with a devilish smirk. Sounds of approval were emitted by all of them and drinks were raised, even by Dorian - who knew next to nothing about the infamous card game. Dalish dealt all of them their cards, threw two silvers on the table, and leaned back.  
"Let the games begin."

**********  
“Well, it appears that I’m not quite going to emerge the victor,” Dorian said, pulling off his shirt with a dramatized sigh. So far, out of everyone playing, he’d lost the most clothes. He was down to only his underwear, and if he wasn’t drunk, he’d probably be blushing under the stares of the giggling, extremely drunk elves, or constantly teasing Krem about how flustered he was about having a nearly naked Dorian sitting next to him, or how the man was frequently sneaking glances in Dorian's direction when he thought he wasn't looking.  
“You’re reeeeeally bad at this, Altus.” Krem pointed out to Dorian, peeking at his bare chest inconspicuously once he turned away to glare at a giggling Dalish.   
“I thought that was obvious when I accidentally set a card ablaze and demanded for another one, honestly,” he replied, smirking at his friend. Krem rolled his eyes.   
“I suppose it was. And everyone thought I was the worst at this game,” he said, shaking his head. Dorian chuckled. True to his word, though, the Soporati was doing only slightly better than Dorian. He had lost everything but his shirt and underwear, and he was rather reluctant to continue. He’d quit after the last round. Dorian had seemed confused, practically begging him to keep playing with that dopey drunk look, but Krem refused. He would like to hold on to some of his dignity, thank you very much.  
“It’s not like the nobility play cards very often. Imagine how much of a scandal this would be!” Dorian joked, gesturing dramatically with his hands. Everyone laughed, and the game resumed.   
**********  
“Ha! I win!” Dalish yelled, throwing a few cards in the air with a triumphant grin. There were numerous groans around the table. The elf counted up her winnings, shoved them into her pockets, and then got up and handed Dorian’s clothes back to him.  
“Since it was your first time playing, I’ll be nice,” she said with a smirk. Dorian rolled his eyes, pulling the clothes back on. From behind him, Krem leaned against the wall, watching. It was late, and everyone had already agreed that after the game was over, they’d all go home.   
“Krem.” The Iron Bull came up behind the Soporati, who jumped, turning to face him.  
“Oh, hey Chief!” he said. Bull chuckled at the startled look on Krem’s face.  
“You’re not intending to drive home, right?” he asked. Krem thought about it for a moment.  
“If you don’t mind me leaving my bike here I won’t.” he replied. Bull nodded.   
“Come on, pretty boy, we’re leaving!” Krem called to Dorian, who was chatting with Dalish and Skinner. He looked to Krem and nodded, then he said his goodbyes before following Krem outside.  
“We’re walking back to my apartment, just so you know,” Krem told him, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket to ward off the cold midnight air. Dorian nodded with a drunken smirk.   
“You’d kill us if you tried to drive,” the mage stated, chuckling. He leaned against Krem as he walked, starting to get a bit tired. They walked in silence for a while, not speaking until they reached the stairs of Krem’s apartment building.  
“Ugh,” Dorian groaned, standing on the bottom step and gazing up the staircase with an exasperated expression. Krem looked down at him from a few stairs up. He tried not to laugh at how utterly distressed Dorian looked. Stairs and a certain drunk Altus apparently did not mix. Krem stepped down and grabbed his sleeve, nearly dragging him up the flight of stairs.  
“Come on, my couch is only a few stairs away,” Krem reminded him. Dorian sighed dramatically but followed the slightly-more-sober Soporati into his apartment. He stumbled through the door, checking the couch for Princess - who was on the floor - before flopping onto the soft leather. Krem laughed at him, closing the door with a soft click.  
"Have I ever told you I really like your couch, Cremisius?" Dorian asked, his voice muffled by said couch. Krem sighed, taking a seat on the floor in front of where Dorian's face was pressed into the couch.  
"No, but if it’s any consolation I like my couch too, Dorian," he replied. He chuckled at the mage who turned his head to look at him. Dorian offered a tired smile.  
"However, I like my bed more, and I think I hear it calling out to me," Krem continued. He sat still for a few more moments, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to stay awake. Finally, he stood up. He looked down at Dorian, who had fallen asleep in a very awkward position. Krem knew how heavy of a sleeper he was, so he pulled at Dorian's half-sprawled limbs until they looked vaguely comfortable. The mage was smiling in his sleep.  
"What did I do to deserve a friend like you?" Krem asked the sleeping man. Princess rubbed against his leg. He picked her up.  
"Oh, so he's only my friend because of you, kitty? Is that it?" he questioned the kitten. He only got purrs in response. He set her down on the arm of the couch and she snuggled up beside Dorian.  
"I see how it is, Princess. Fine, then," he told the cat with a tired smirk. His eyes drifted to Dorian's face. He looked so much more at peace. And, in a different manner than usual, attractive. He would say the man looked innocent, if he didn’t know any better. Krem shook his head and kneeled down in front of Dorian, gazing at his blank expression for a few more seconds before leaning forward and carefully pressing his lips to the other man's. He pulled back, sighing.  
"Maker knows that'll probably be the only time I get to do that. Once he knows..." Krem whispered to himself, getting up again and leaving for his bedroom. Dorian would probably never know about that kiss, but Krem already didn't want to forget it. But not only was Krem a Soporati, but he probably wasn't exactly ‘manly’ enough for Dorian's tastes. At least, that's what he told himself as he drifted off to sleep, already regretting the hangover he'd be dealing with in the morning.


	5. 5- Good Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the party. 
> 
> *** I accidentally used a lot of alliteration and whoever can count how many times I used alliteration wins... I don't know yet... ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a while! I've had chaper 4-5 written for a while now but ao3 hasn't been working well on my computer lately so I haven't had time to deal with it until now.

The moment Dorian opened his eyes the next day, he nearly hissed. The sun was shining brightly through Krem’s open curtains. The mage covered his eyes with his left hand and willed the curtains to close with his other hand. Oh, the perks of being a mage.   
He closed his eyes again for a moment, trying to block out the throbbing headache he had, to no avail. He ran his hands along his jawline, frowning at the scratchy stubble that he’d neglected to do anything about the previous morning. He’d meant to deal with it the morning after, but he wasn’t exactly at home like he thought he’d be. Instead, he was lying on Krem’s comfy couch with a clearly-comfortable cat on his chest. Princess purred in her sleep. Dorian tried soothing his headache by pouring all of his strength into magically healing himself, and it worked enough that the now-lesser light didn’t make it worse. He’d never truly been good at healing people, especially himself.  
“What time is it?” Dorian groaned at no one in particular. He carefully maneuvered his hand to his pocket and retrieved his phone, trying not to disturb the slumbering kitten. The glowing screen told him it was already four in the afternoon. Dorian sighed. He was probably going to stay at Krem’s again. If there was one thing Dorian didn’t want to face at this moment in time, it the wrath of his parents in a hungover state. That is, he’d stay at Krem’s if he didn’t mind his presence, of course. Thankfully, he never seemed to mind. Speaking of Krem, Dorian suddenly wondered if the Soporati was awake.   
“Wake up, Princess. I’ll feel bad if I move while you’re still sleeping,” Dorian said to the cat. Her little orange ears twitched, and she turned her head to look at him with blinking bright blue eyes. She meowed, then stood up, stretched, and gracefully hopped off of Dorian to the floor. She disappeared, probably searching for food. Dorian smiled. He wished he had a cat.  
He dragged himself off of the couch and stretched, feeling the slight stiffness of sore muscles from sleeping on the sofa. But it wasn’t too bad. Dorian walked into the kitchen where the small cat stood by her entirely-too-empty-for-her-tastes food bowl. Her water bowl was as dry as the Hissing Wastes as well. The little kitten meowed loudly at him, outraged at the lack of breakfast. At that moment, Dorian’s stomach growled. Apparently, Princess wasn’t the only one in need of sustenance.   
He gathered the two empty dishes in his hands and took them over to the sink. He knew he’d seen where Krem kept cat food somewhere in the cabinets. Unfortunately, he had entirely forgotten where the bag was, so he just began slamming open all the cabinets in a half-asleep haze. After giving up searching for cat food and deciding to fill Princess’s water bowl, he decided he’d go ask Krem. Though obviously agitated that Dorian only offered water, the cat still started lapping up the water as fast as possible. Dorian stepped back from the tiny beast of a kitten with a dorky smile and walked over to Krem’s door. It was open just a crack - maybe the cat had gone in to see her owner during the night? - and Dorian peered in. Krem was still asleep.  
“I hope he doesn’t hate being woken up.” he whispered to himself, stepping into the room. Krem was sprawled over his bed, the blanket covering his upper body but hopelessly wrapped around his legs. He laid mostly on his side, one arm under the pillow and the other hanging off of the bedside. Dorian noticed that Krem’s hair was unusually unkempt. Almost ridiculously so. Strands of light brown fell over the man’s forehead, slightly highlighted by the sunlight shining softly through the space between his curtains. The tough soporati looked calm and innocent, and - dare he think it - slightly feminine. But Dorian shook his head. He was here on behalf of the cat, and it was never good to let his mind wander.   
“Krem?” Dorian called quietly. Since Dorian was usually the last to wake in the house - his or Krem’s - he didn’t know if Krem was a light sleeper or not. Sadly, the man did not stir. Maybe if he called his name a little louder?  
“Krem?” Dorian tried again, just a tad louder. Krem yawned loudly and looked through squinted eyes at Dorian, looking at the Altus with a slightly annoyed expression. Hopefully he was only annoyed at the headache Dorian figured he had and not the mage himself.  
“Yes?” Krem asked.  
“Sorry to wake you, but I think Princess will eat me if someone doesn’t feed her first and I couldn’t find the cat food,” Dorian replied, and he couldn’t help but smirk at how he’d phrased that sentence. Even groggy and disheveled, he still had his sarcasm as his best weapon. Krem tried to glare at him, but instead laughed.  
“It’s on top of the refrigerator. I had to move it yesterday because she figured out how to get it from the cabinet,” Krem told Dorian, who gave a thoughtful nod before turning and leaving the room, closing the door behind him, and going to satisfy the needs of the carnivorous cat. He retrieved the cat’s kibble and poured some into the bowl, hushing her as she meowed excitedly while he tried to set the dish down. As soon as his hand was out of her way, she started devouring the food. Dorian watched her for a moment before he heard Krem’s footsteps. He turned to face him.  
“Sleep well?” Dorian asked, smirking at Krem’s messy bedhead. It was majestic earlier with the sunlight filtering through the windows, but now it was next to atrocious. Krem glared playfully at him when he realized that Dorian was looking at his hair.  
“Yes, I know, my hair is hilariously hideous, but have you seen yours yet?” Krem asked, donning a smirk of his own as Dorian darted quickly out of the kitchen to go look in Krem’s bathroom mirror. Dorian almost cursed at his hair, which was standing up awkwardly in random places and was far messier than his friend’s. He searched around for Krem’s brush, completely concerned about his hair and not about how Krem might be a bit annoyed at the use of his brush. He carefully brushed his hair until it at least laid flat against his head. He didn’t have the hair products at hand for anything else.  
Finally, once he was satisfied with his hair, he stepped out of the bathroom and saw that Krem was sitting silently on the couch looking at his own phone. Dorian decided to join him, taking his spot on the other side of the couch as the cat was in the middle, trying to dig into the sofa. By the scratches on the cushion, Dorian could tell this wasn’t the first time Princess had endeavored in this activity. He petted the cat for a few moments before Krem spoke up, looking up from his phone.  
“Did I ever tell you how I got her?” Krem asked, nodding at Princess. Dorian shook his head.  
“Well, I was walking to work one day in the rain when I saw a cat that looked just like her but bigger. I swear, she looked as though she was about to burst. I brought her to work with me and the Chief watched her in his office all night. We fed her fries, since no one had time to go get cat food. I took her home with me in a box, and she had kittens while I was asleep. There were five,” Krem started, recalling the story with a fond smile on his face.   
“All of the Chargers have a cat now. Me, Dalish, Skinner, Grim, Rocky, we all took a kitten. Bull kept the mother cat. As far as I know, they’re all still alive. The Chief’s cat lives in the tavern,” Krem finished. Dorian was smiling.  
“Bull doesn’t strike me as a cat person” Dorian said, scratching Princess behind the ear, eliciting a please purr from the feline. Krem shrugged.  
“He’s not. But he likes Opa just fine,” he replied, looking back at his phone. Dorian let his mind wander while he was petting Princess, and suddenly he found himself thinking thoughts that weren’t exactly welcome about his best friend.  
So he’s adorable and a cat savior? I mean, it's hard enough to have such good looks, but to also be so sweet to poor stray cats? That’s attractive. Oh, no. Dorian no. No, you can’t say - think things about your best friend like this! But he is so - No! No, quit it. Quit it. Stop… I’m screwed, ’ Dorian thought to himself, cursing his rotten luck. He sighed, shaking his head.  
“You okay?” Krem asked. Dorian looked back at him, surprised. He hadn’t meant to get his attention.  
“Hm? Oh, I’m fine.” Dorian answered stupidly. Krem’s concerned look didn’t go away for a moment, as he kept looking at Dorian. The mage offered a smile. Finally, Krem seemed to give, and shrugged before looking back at his phone.   
Well, that was a close one.


	6. Chapter 6- White Fur and Black Jeans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian meets someone new and chills at Krem's while he's at work.

Another week passed from then. Dorian had spent one more day at Krem's before going home, dreading the inevitable reprimands of his parents when he returned home. Despite being shunned to his room for a few days, he was glad that he had showed up to the party nonetheless. However boredom set in quickly and he found himself craving Krem’s presence once more.  
"You sure I can't just keep your cat company while you work?" Dorian asked over the phone, trying not to sound like he was begging but failing. Currently, the mage was laying stomach-up on his bed with his head dangling upside-down from the mattress, feeling the blood rush to his head but hardly caring. Krem sighed quietly, the sound barely audible over the clanging and clacking noises in the background.  
"My bike's in the shop, I can't come and get you. Do you even know how to get here on your own without stirring up any trouble?" Krem inquired. Dorian flinched when he heard a sharp scraping noise and a startled meow, but smiled fondly when he heard Krem cooing apologies to Princess.  
"Of course I do! And I won't get caught by any gangs and be saved by any dashing men in leather jackets again, I promise," Dorian assured him jokingly. Krem chuckled, and Dorian heard the sound of a door slamming shut and feet on stairs.  
"Fine, fine. But if I come home and find that my liquor cabinet is empty, there will be repercussions, that I can confirm," the man replied, before promptly hanging up without a proper goodbye. Dorian squealed with excitement, glad to have found an opening to leave his house, before realizing his actions and shaking his head with a smile on his face.  
“Squealing like a schoolgirl? Is this what you’ve reduced yourself to, Dorian?” the mage muttered quietly to himself as he searched his closet for a jacket. It wasn’t terribly cold out from what Dorian could tell after sitting by his window with a book he’s read and reread nearly twelve times. He decided on a black hoodie, taking it out and pulling it on and zipping it up over his plain black undershirt. As for the rest of his outfit, it was perfect for walking through Minrathous in the middle of the day, but not too stylish to draw attention on the other side of town: jeans and a pair of black sneakers. Dorian stuffed his phone in his pocket and stepped out of his room. One simply couldn’t climb down a ladder in the middle of the day without rousing suspicion from gawking passersby.   
Instead of taking the usual route out of the mansion through the side gate, Dorian walked out of the front door, being sure not to make too much noise. His mother was having tea with a few other magisters’ wives, and his father was busy working with their husbands. Only the servants remained in the house, and they hardly spared him a second glance. The gate guards waved cheerfully as he approached. Just as he was about to say hello, a small child stepped out from behind one of them and he stopped in his tracks. In his mind, he could hear the rule that no servant was to be accompanied by their child during work hours. The little elven girl with red pigtails saw Dorian and shied away behind her father’s leg. The elven man looked shocked and scared, and tried to stutter out an excuse. Dorian held his hand up with a reassuring smile.  
“I won’t say a word,” Dorian said to the elf, who sighed in relief. He reached down and picked up the little girl, holding her against his hip. She giggled and leaned against his chest. He smiled up at Dorian.  
“Thank you, sir. She won’t be here long, I swear. My wife had to run an important errand and no one could watch her but myself. She should be back any minute now,” the elf explained. The other guard beside him, a red-haired elf resembling the father and child, looked nervous.  
“Can I ask her name? And yours as well? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you before,” Dorian questioned kindly, smiling at the giggling little toddler. He didn’t usually get along with children, but it wasn’t as if he disliked them. After all, he was a child once, and this child seemed to like him. She waved at him, and Dorian awkwardly waved back.  
“Her name is Lily, and I am Trinn,” the father replied. The elf beside him reluctantly met Dorian’s eyes, still wary of him despite the fact Dorian had done nothing off-putting as of yet.  
“I’m Kane. His brother,” he introduced, before looking away to stare at nothing in particular.   
“Dorian, though I’m sure you knew that already. Anyway, I’ll be leaving the grounds once again for a while to visit an old friend. I’ll be back by tomorrow. Good night to you both,” Dorian said, starting to walk past. He stopped beside the father and child and looked at the little girl, smiling charmingly.  
“And to you too, sweetheart,” he added, finally walking through the gate and onto the sidewalk. Minrathous was busy during this time of day, cars driving down the streets and people bustling about on their phones and with friends. Dorian pulled his hood over his head and wove through the crowd, breathing in the sweet scents when he passed the pastry shop he and Krem had taken to using as their meeting place. The smell from inside was almost intoxicating to the hungry mage, and he used every ounce of willpower to keep from popping in to grab a pastry or two. He didn’t have any money with him to spend on the delicious sweets. But maybe next time he’d stop and buy something for both himself and Krem as a small thank you gift.  
He walked for quite a while before he stopped to hail a taxi. The driver accepted his money without so much as a greeting and drove him to Krem’s apartment complex without a word besides a short farewell. It took longer than it did at night since there was no traffic when it was late. Dorian jogged up the stairs and knocked on Krem’s door before remembering that the man had probably gone to work already. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check if Krem had sent him a message of some sort.  
Krem: I left the door unlocked for you, feed Princess for me - 5:37pm  
Dorian sent Krem a quick text telling him he was at the apartment and then opened the door and went inside, making sure to lock it behind him. Krem had left the television on, probably to leave the illusion that the apartment was occupied. Dorian turned it off. He had never been one for TV and apparently Krem wasn’t either. His friend watched the occasional movie and sometimes popped in a video game or two, but overall, he didn’t use the appliance much.   
Dorian was hardly through the door when he heard a meow from the white-and-orange kitten. He turned around to see her sitting in the doorway of the kitchen, meowing loudly at Dorian. She pranced over and rubbed against his legs. Dorian sighed, picking her up.  
“Don’t you know white fur and black pants don’t mix? Silly kitty,” he scolded jokingly, petting her head for a moment before setting her down on the floor of the kitchen. He found the cat food with no difficulty this time and poured some of the kibble into Princess’s bowl. She practically attacked it, and Dorian decided to steer clear of the carnivorous beast. He made his way around her and back out to the living room, stretching across the couch and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He frowned when he saw he had no new texts, and he quickly sent one to Krem confirming that no, his cat wouldn’t die of hunger today. Then, finding that he was quite comfortable, Dorian decided to close his eyes and try to sleep. He drifted off thinking of what Krem would have to say when he got home, hoping it wouldn’t be some silly sarcastic remark but knowing it would be. Dorian’s behavior was honestly rubbing off on the Soporati, which wasn’t very good for Dorian. If there was one thing Minrathous didn’t need, it was another Dorian running around.


	7. Chapter 7- Bad Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes Krem has bad days. Dorian agrees to leave it at that, even if he doesn't want to. Merry Christmas, folks, have some sad.

Chapter 7  
**********  
Krem’s keys jingled as he unlocked his door, yawning as he stepped inside. It was a little after 2am, and all he felt like doing was going to sleep. He saw Dorian sleeping on the couch and the corners of his mouth turned up.  
Dorian was sprawled across the couch cushions, his phone laying on his chest, and Princess on his belly. Krem pulled his phone out of his pocket and snapped a photo. Not only could it be used for blackmail later, but Krem couldn’t help noticing how cute the mage and the cat looked. In the back of his mind, Krem wished he could kiss Dorian.  
He tensed up. No. No kissing Dorian. No thinking of kissing or anything else, he doesn’t want you, and if he does, he won’t for long. Krem decided to retreat to his bathroom for a much-needed shower. He dropped his leather jacket on the floor, his jeans following suit. When he looked in the mirror after pulling off his shirt, however, he sighed. If only he had a normal flat chest like a normal man instead of a binder hiding breasts he never should’ve had.   
“Woe is me.” he grumbled, looking away from the mirror and pulling off the binder, turning on the water in the shower and stripping out of his underwear before practically hiding from his reflection behind the shower curtain. He leaned against the tile wall for a moment as the heavy feeling passed, just like always. Today. had been a bad day, dysphoria wise, and Krem felt exhausted. He’d picked one of his looser binders after noticing that his ribs hurt from wearing one too long the former day. The moment he’d put it on he regretted it, but he couldn’t have his ribs getting cracked.   
As soon as he finished washing soap out of his hair he turned the water off and grabbed his towel, drying off as fast as possible and pulling on the clothes he intended to sleep in. He tossed the dirty laundry into his basket and fled the bathroom, bolting to his bed and curling up under the blankets. Finally, he’d made it. The day was over.   
******  
By the time Dorian woke up, Krem had already been up for an hour. He hadn’t got much sleep, his dysphoria following him into his dreams, turning them into nightmares. He tried to forget them all, but especially the ones with Dorian in them, the ones of horrible reactions to Krem not being cis.   
“Morning, Mr. Cat-sitter.” Krem greeted Dorian, leaning against his kitchen counter eating cereal. He offered a smile, and Dorian returned it, going to fix a bowl for himself.  
“Sleep well, Mr. Cat-owner?” Dorian asked. Krem froze for a second, before chuckling. Dorian was facing away from him, so he hadn’t seen the lapse in composure.  
“Fine. You?” he replied. Dorian nodded. Finally, bowl of cereal complete and in hand, he turned to Krem once again. Now that his mind wasn’t as clouded with sleepiness, he immediately noticed the dark bags under Krem’s eyes and the fact that he was wearing at least two shirts and a jacket. The first was white, probably an undershirt, and it stuck out a little over the top of the second, which was dark red. The jacket wasn’t his usual leather, but a black hoodie with a zipper. Dorian furrowed his eyebrows.  
“You look cold.” he tried. Krem seemed confused for a second, then realized, and smiled nervously. Krem hoped Dorian would buy it, but he didn’t. He watched as Krem pulled at the zipper of the jacket, obviously avoiding his eyes.  
“Yeah, uh, left my window open last night. Woke up half frozen.” he excused, and Dorian rolled his eyes.  
“Your bedroom door is wide open and its no colder than usual in here.” Dorian pointed out, and Krem stiffened. Just because Dorian didn’t care about a lot of people didn’t mean he wasn’t perceptive as hell when it came to people he did care for.  
“So, what’s wrong?” Dorian asked. Krem sighed.  
“Nothing. Had some bad dreams. I’m fine.” he responded, before putting his bowl by his sink, no longer hungry, and stepping out of the kitchen. Dorian shook his head, following. Instead of heading to the couch like normal, Krem went for his room. As much as Dorian wanted to know what was troubling him, he knew better than to invade Krem’s personal space. Even if it was a whole room’s worth of space. Krem was direct, never really sugar-coated things. If he was going to talk, he’d do it on his own terms. As much as that frustrated Dorian, he knew it was true. It was how he handled things, too.  
Meanwhile, Krem looked at himself in the mirror in his room. He peeled off the jacket, but left the red longsleeve and the undershirt. Even through his best binder and two shirts, Krem just couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. It’d been a long time since it was this bad. He turned to the side, looking at the very slight curve of his chest. It didn’t look bulky. Still, just because something is hidden doesn’t mean it’s not there. Krem was very aware of that fact. He sighed.   
'You’ve gone and worried Dorian. Great. You can’t tell him, what if he leaves? Calls you a freak?' The thoughts caused him to grimace, shuddering at the suggestions. Then he relaxed a little. 'He wouldn’t do that. He’s not that kind of guy. Hell, he’s just as much of an outsider.'   
“Either way, I can’t just leave him.” Krem muttered to himself, grabbing the jacket. He froze, fabric in his hand. He didn’t need the jacket. Letting out a long, deep breath, he let go and walked out of his bedroom, attracting Dorian’s attention as he took his place on the couch.  
“You okay?” Dorian asked.   
“No. But I’ve been worse. Don’t worry about it.”   
“We’re friends. It’s my job to worry.”  
“If you insist.” Krem mumbled. He pulled his phone out and checked his messages. Bull gave him the next two days off. He texted back a cat face. When his boss actually woke up, he’d probably see the message and roll his eyes.  
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Dorian asked quietly. Krem sighed. He looked over at Dorian, and saw that the Altus’ expression was filled with concern.   
“Sometimes I have bad days. Can we just leave it at that?” Krem replied. Dorian looked a little disappointed, but he nodded anyway.   
“If that’s what you want.”


End file.
